


Nothing Forgotten

by allyavenue



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fob Watch AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1643690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyavenue/pseuds/allyavenue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs, luggage, half-eaten meals. Rings. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for reading this fic, I really hope you all like it. I have mapped the whole thing out and I know exactly what is going to happen, so this won't be abandoned. I don't own Doctor Who or the characters or anything (obviously). Let me know what you think!

 

  
  


Madame Kovarian scowls as she examines the surveillance clips played in front of her. 

"It's them. I truly hate to admit it, but it is them." She sighs and squints at the screen, as if doing so will change the people that appear on it. Several screens hang on the wall in front of Madame Kovarian and her clerics, all displaying pictures and videos of the same couple: a man with a tweed jacket and a woman with an impossible amount of curly hair. To anyone outside of Madame Kovarian's group, they would simply appear as an ordinary married couple, shopping in an ordinary shop among other civilians. Each screen shows a different-yet completely average-outing of the couple. Shopping, eating at a restaurant, sitting on a bench, all ordinary.

One of the clerics standing next to Kovarian speaks with a feeble attempt at  effrontery. "But that can't be. The Doctor is well...he's dead ma'am. The body was burnt. The chances of him strolling around London with his murderer are-"

"Not as slim as you think." Kovarian interrupts coldly. "You are, once again, underestimating who we are up against. The Doctor is smart, powerful, and quick, even I cannot deny that. It's what makes him so dangerous. Combine those facts with little Melody's objection to killing him and there is a very good chance that we may have failed at killing the Doctor, failed our mission." She sighs and begins to pace. "It could be nothing, it could be everything. The two people on the screens in front of you have been seen together aroud London for at least a week. The best thing we can do without causing too much damage is to send out some specialists to investigate."

The cleric opens his mouth and then closes it, not quite sure what to say. "Are you sure it is wise to reopen this case?"

Kovarain turns to him, her eyes shooting daggers. "I want three of your best in my office by five, no arguments. I'm afraid that where the Doctor and River Song are concerned, we can take no chances." She leaves, her heels clacking on the floor, before the cleric can stutter out a 'yes ma'am'.

~~~~~~~~~

Galaxies away, the man in the tweed jacket and the woman with the impossibly curly hair bicker.

"One week without the TARDIS! I told you I could do it, didn't I? You owe me 200 credits!" The Doctor insists gleefully as his wife and in-laws stand to the side of the console. River crosses her arms and joins him at the controls, flipping an odd switch here and there.

"I said I bet you couldn't handle one week without the TARDIS or any unordinary behavior  _whatsoever_ . Visiting Torchwood when you're experiencing withdrawal is cheating. So in fact, that will be 200 credits from you, sweetie." She faces him and hold out her hand smugly, her face the picture of triumph with a hint of a smirk.

The Doctor grumbles and ducks under the console, sifting through a sea of different currency from various places that he keep just in case. He rises with a few notes clutched in his fist and deposites them in River's open palm. Amy and Rory watch silently, holding back laughter. 

“You know the TARDIS misses me when I'm gone! And you too, you practically forced me to abandon her.” The Doctor rants as he examines a string of numbers on the monitor. He freezes suddenly and mutters under his breath. “Oh no.”

Amy finally speaks and steps toward him, Rory following a bit behind. “Doctor? What is it?”

It takes the Doctor a moment to answer, and when he does, he directs his response at River. “As it would happen, our little bet may have had a more serious consequence than we thought it would.”

River furrows her brow and reads the screen, shrugging her shoulders. “It's a video feed, CCTV from the looks of it.” 

The Doctor nods and rocks on the balls of his feet a bit impatiently. “Yes yes, but look at the time and location.”

River's eyes scan the screen quickly, drinking in the information. She turns to the Doctor, confused. “Why does the Old Girl have a surveillance tape of us shopping for milk last Tuesday?” She had seen some fairly insane things stored away in the TARDIS archives, but ten seconds of footage seemed to cross a line.

“Ever since I realized that the Silence was after me, I have been tracking all of their incoming messages and data. The TARDIS filters out the unimportant ones and sends the high-risk ones directly to me, or so it would seem.” The Doctor glances over the numbers again gravely. 

“You mean this has never happened before? In all the time you've been tracking them?” Rory asks incredulously. At once, the Doctor is himself again. He flicks the screen off and turns to all three Ponds.

“The Silence think-or at least thought- that I died at Lake Silencio. To them it was a closed case, over and done with. The fact that they are now investigsting my whereabouts may mean that-”

“They're onto us.” River says quietly. Amy and Rory look at each other, eqaully concerned and confused.

The Doctor nods and disappears to the other side of the console, the sounds of machinery and grinding coming from underneath. “The Silence are tracking us-trying to figure out whether I am still alive probably. That means we've got to hide.” River follows him down a set of stairs and underneath the glass floor of the console. Rory and Amy both look through the glass at them. 

“Hide where?” Amy asks. “The Silence can go anywhere, anywhen for that matter. Where could we hide?”

Before either the Doctor or River can answer, Rory asks another question. “And why do we need to hide from them? Doesn't seem very like us.”

The Doctor and River return, carrying a heavy-looking piece of machinery between the two of them. They set it right next to the console and immediately start working together to attatch cables to it. While working, the Doctor lifts his head to look at Amy and Rory. “I'm afraid we have no other option. The Silence could be onto us; it's our job to convince them that River and I are simply two run-of-the-mill, ordinary humans. That way they'll clear off the case.”

“It's all a bit more difficult than you would think.” River adds while using the Doctor's sonic on a particularly stubborn bolt. “We can't just convince them that we are human. We have to _be_ human.”

“Except you're not...” Amy counters slowly.

“Not yet anyways.” The Doctor hauls a cable down from the ceiling and attatches it to the top of the machine he and River had been working on. With a flick of a switch on the console, the machine is lifted up. Amy and Rory look at it critically. As the metal contraption is lifted, it is revealed to look like a helmet, almost.

River leans against the console slightly and crosses her arms. She doesn't look very happy with the situation, and neither does the Doctor. However, he turns to Rory and Amy and explains patiently. “If the Silence start tracking us, they'll know we are timelords, just acting the part. We need- for however long as it takes-to become other people. To not be the Doctor and River Song. Once the Silence are sure that we are not who they think we are, we can become ourselves again. This machine-” He motions to the mechanism above thier heads. “Can make River and I human. I have done it once before. It turns you into a completely new and different person. New name, new personality, new memories, new life.” He swallows and drags a hand nervously through his hair. “We won't remember each other, or you two. Just enough to feel safe in your presence...”

River listens to only half of what the Doctor is saying, having been shown the machine years before. She knows it is necessary to do this, and she would do anything to escape the Silence. She's done worse. But the questions the Doctor avoids answering play on repeat in her mind. What if they never change back? What if they are separated? How long will it take? Well, she thinks, she wanted to become a different person after leaving the Silence. This just happens to be a more literal opportunity. After the Doctor finishes a long winded explanation about fob watches to Amy and Rory, he turns to her and looks into her eyes, searching for something that isn't there.  Reassurance.

“Ready?” He asks, void of a smile. She nods and walks to Amy and Rory, fixing them with a small smile.

“It'll be just like a holiday. Without his constant need for adventure.  Honestly, he's like a child.” The Doctor snorts in objection and beckons her over to the helmet. 

“You first, I have to adjust the settings for a partial Timelord. That'll be a doozy.” He chuckles quietly as River lowers the helmet onto her head, and is too distracted to even comment on how ridiculous she looks with her hair bunched underneath the metal. She looks at her parents and smiles but does not say anything-a goodbye would be far too morbid. “I'll see you soon, you know.” The Doctor gives her a crooked smile and finishes his adjustments to the machine. 

“You better.” River replies, smirking. The Doctor leans in toward her and they kiss briefly, both aware of other people in the room. But they do not say goodbye, they never do. The Doctor ushers the Ponds to the other side of the console and gives his wife one last (hopefullly) reassuring smile before turning the machine on.

It begins so quickly.  The Ponds watch in shock and it is all they can do to hold the Doctor back from running to River and ripping the helmet from her head. After a few minutes, River falls to the floor. The helmet clangs on the glass and fills the eerie quiet with an echo. The Doctor carries River to the jumpseat and sets her there gently before positioning the helmet atop his own head. “Right, after this it's up to you two to sort the rest out. There's a drawer full of money in the library, and you can always use my sonic. Just remember, you can't treat River and I like ourselves, and you can't open the watch until the TARDIS confirms you can. Understood?”

“Understood.” Amy whispers and gives him a quick nod. Rory mutters the same.

The Doctor flicks the switch on the console and his knees buckle as he lets out a piercing scream. Amy buries her head in Rory's shoulder until the screaming subsides and the Doctor slides to the floor, unconscious. Sighing at the gravity of what they have just witnessed, the two remaining Ponds begin working on a new life.  Not just for themselves, but for their friends.

 


	2. Two Lives Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs, luggage, half-eaten meals. Rings. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back." -The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know this chapter is kind of short, but I haven't got much time for writing what with finals coming up. This fic will really start going at the beginning of June. Thank you all for the feedback, I really do love hearing your thoughts. By the way, this will get more interesting soon.

 It is an average Thursday morning when John Smith awakes in his flat, the sounds of London and a lazy rain coming from his window. His alarm clock beeps and he taps it gently, too tired to really do much. Rising from his bed, he yawns and stretches luxuriously, already grumbling about the day he has in front of him.

John walks about his living space doing various things without giving much thought to any of them. Brushing his teeth, dressing, eating. It all feels the same to him, ordinary and simple. That's the way he prefers things. Safe and simple is much better than dangerous and complex. As long as he could remember, he had never been a risk taker.

Spritzing a bit of cologne on the base of his neck-not that anyone would notice-and straightening his black tie, John pushes his thick-framed glasses up his nose and grabs his briefcase. He is out the door and slowly bouncing down his staircase in a matter of minutes. As he cranes his neck to find a suitable seat on the underground shortly after leaving his home, John mentally sorts through his day. _Meeting at nine thirty with the boss, then a phone conference...with who? Oh, Joe McKafferty. That ought to be good. Then a few hours to get my reports and filing done before lunch. I've got a meeting with that dreadful woman afterward. She is hell..._

His thoughts are interrupted as the trains stops and he is forced to step out or suffer the consequences of being lat for work. John brushes himself off after escaping the throng of people, sighing lightly to himself. He really did detest it all. The crowds and noise and excitement. But taxis weren't free, and there weren't too many places to park a car in the city.

The sunlight (if it can be called that) bounces off the gleaming building that houses the Bissig Corporation as John approaches it, briefcase in hand. He walks in and passes the atrium, with its bustling activity and light music playing softly in the background. Through twisting and winding halls, he found his shoebox office. Most people would have complained about receiving such a small room while upholding such an important position in the company. But despite John's annoyance at many things, his office did not bother him in the slightest. It felt huge to him, as if it could be bigger on the inside than the outside dimensions would allow. But of course, that kind of thinking was ridiculous. Any person with a simple understanding of architecture and plain logic would be forced to agree.

Throughout the morning, everything goes as planned. His meetings go smoothly, his reports get finished, and he makes his boss laugh at a joke he heard on the telly the night before. The day seems promising before John remembers that he still must endure a meeting with that woman at four o'clock in the afternoon. Melody Williams had come to work at Bissig around the same time he had. They both worked in the sales department, and had constantly been trying to beat each other out for the executive position. John can't stand her, but not because she's unpleasant. Truthfully, Melody is quite kind and soft-spoken. The only problem is that she is much better at what she does than he is, and he knows that when the time for raises come, he won;t be the lucky one. John is an extremely competitive person, which makes it difficult for him to make connections with anyone that might surpass him. Needless to say, this had caused some tension between him and Melody. Even the kindest people have a boiling point.

At four o'clock on the dot, there is a knock at his door and he snaps his head up from some papers. "Come in." He grunts, almost apologetically. Not to his visitor of course. But to himself, the expert in self-pity. Immediately, a woman with curly blonde hair and wearing pantsuit walks in. She forces a smile at John before sitting across from him and spreading papers out on his desk, right on top of his work. "I was reading that!" He protests and takes off his glasses to polish them. Melody rolls her eyes and crosses her legs.

"What? All morning?  That explains a lot. You obviously haven't seen the news. We're doing terrible, all because of your bright idea-"

"That you proposed to the boss." John interjects. Melody looks at him challengingly and John slides back in his seat a little. The news really must be awful, he has never seen her this angry before.

"The only reason I was the one who proposed the idea to Mr. Phelps is because you were too nervous. That's beside the point John, we could lose both our jobs because of your little screw up."

 _At least then you wouldn't get ahead of me._ John thinks bitterly as he attempts to come up with a suitable argument. So the meeting begins. John and Melody bicker passive aggressively for ten minutes before agreeing to disagree. They spend the next hour devising a new plan to counteract John's old one and she leaves, closing the door a little too loudly behind her. She knows it's not professional to have such a hostile relationship with a coworker, but she really can't help it. John Smith is truly the only person that makes her feel...angry. Angry enough to let her mask of propriety crack. She hated what a simple meeting with him turned her into, she hated him altogether. While walking back to her office and dwelling on this, Melody doesn't notice two of her other coworkers hidden behind a pillar, watching her carefully and whispering between themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using a weird word processor, so please let me know of any typos I may have overlooked. Thanks!


	3. The Scene and the Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs, luggage, half-eaten meals. Rings. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back." -The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the words of encouragement and feedback.

Due to the disappearances over the last week, it is advised that the public stay out of what once was the Holken Manufacturing Company. The United Nations have so far made no comment as to whether this is an act of terror, but the government has declared the area unsafe, and an investigation is currently underway. Stay safe, and alert the police of any other disappearances.

Melody sets down her cup of coffee and turns off the television, just as many other people are doing. The case of the many disappearances that had been happening throughout the city is all that anyone talks about, and all that the news channels bother reporting. On Monday, twenty seven people had been declared missing. On Tuesday, the number had increased to fifty. Every day a new set of people had disappeared. Today, Saturday, the general public has accepted that something out of the ordinary is happening. The headquarters for the Holken Manufacturing Company had caught fire, and bodies of some of the missing were found among the ash. The whole affair is becoming quite terrifying, but people continue their daily lives like they always did, telling themselves that if someone does get taken, it won't be them.

Melody thinks that she should be scared for her life, like any sane person would be. After all, she doesn't live too far away from Holken. But she doesn't feel fear in the least, or even anger for the lives of the taken people. Instead, she feels curious. Curious about how people are simply being plucked away from their lives and curious about how they ended up in a burnt down office building. People didn't just disappear like that, not in real life. This had to be an act of terror from another nation, just like the government was speculating. Somehow though, she doubts that. This is different and strange and she needs to know more. She feels the need to do something about it.  
Melody walks her coffee mug and her finished bowl of cereal to her sink and yawns, grateful for the weekend. She loves what she does, despite some coworkers that tend to get on her last nerve. Working at Bissig always offers a challenge, somewhere to put forth her creative ideas. In another life, Melody could be an writer. But ever since she was old enough to understand the concept of money and how hopeless the world was, her parents had taught her that she must pick a sensible job, something stable with a good income. And she had believed them, a fear growing in her mind that she would end up alone and in poverty if she did not take the path they had set out for her. But she loves her job, or she tells herself that at least.

Thank god for Saturdays. She is free to do as she pleases, not giving a single thought to the pile of paperwork laying on her desk. That paperwork is light years away. Melody sets out on the street, the morning sunshine warms her face and tickles the edges of her shining hair.

The disappearances are still on her mind as she turns a corner, and then another, and another. She knows exactly where she is going but refuses to admit it to herself, as if that would somehow stop her. Finally, she approaches the decrepit and charred remains of the Holken building. Heart pounding in her chest, she ducks under the yellow police tape and then holds her head high as she walks past members of the police force. Not a single person questions her, they are all talking quickly to each other and walking quickly. Something must be wrong, she reasons. Melody is about to turn back and give up on the entire impromptu visit when a hand grabs her elbow.

"Melody! In here!" She hears the hushed tones of her coworker as she's pulled into an empty building that was left untouched by the fire. John looks out the door in a panic and then breathes a sigh of relief. "One more second and you would have been found. What the hell were you thinking, coming here?"

Melody snorts and glances out the door, just in case. "What was I thinking? What about you? Shouldn't you be polishing your collection of bowling trophies?"

John's face turns pink. "I mentioned them once at the Christmas party! That's beside the point. We can't be here, we shouldn't. You have no idea what I've seen, it's best to let the police take care of it, if they can." He fidgets and starts playing with his glasses.

"What have you seen that's so horrible? It can't be-" Suddenly there are footsteps coming down the hall and before either of them really know what's happening, they are running. John runs faster than he knew he could, more out of instinct than anything else. Melody run so fast that she feels muscles move that she didn't even know she had. Through a labyrinth of halls that all look the same, they sprint until they cannot hear voices anymore. They pause beside a vending machine and take a moment to regain their breath.  
"Where-are-we?" Melody pants and massages a stitch in her side. John shakes his head in response and shrugs, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly. It sinks in for him that they are actually doing something illegal, they could be suspected of arson or even murder for this. Or worse, they could be the next victims of whoever is making people disappear. Not that it matters, to him at least. The law is the last thing on his mind. Melody paces, her high heels making the only noise in the entire hall. They don't even begin speaking to each other when a high pitched noise comes from a nearby room. John looks up when he hears it, a cold shiver running down his spine. I thought I had gotten away from it, He thinks. Melody freezes mid-pace and looks at him. "Stay here" he mouths to her and edges his way toward the room.

When he sees what's inside, he wants to scream and cry and be sick all at the same time, and he doesn't know why.

At first he can't comprehend what he is seeing. It's nothing like he's ever seen before today, shining red and black with a cold, hateful eye staring at him. Technically, he is taller than whatever it is, but he still feels terrified. The machine is covered in orbs and is shaped like a shuttlecock, with a long eyestalk sticking out at him. The machine swivels around to look at him properly (can machines see?) and starts screeching. "DOC-TOR! DOC-TOR! EXTERMINATE!" It advances toward him, repeating this confusing mantra.  
John swallows and slams the door, his heart hammering in his chest. He grabs Melody's hand and again they are running, driven by an unexplainable sense of terror.  
"John-what was it?" Melody asks, confused. She follows him as they weave through the path they had already taken. John just shakes his head and grips her hand tighter, and doesn't let go until they are out of the building. A few police officers look at them quizzically and John flashes them a nervous smile. "I'll explain later-if I can. Come on, they're going to start asking why we're here." He starts walking away from the Holken crime scene and Melody calls out to the officers, "Health and safety business! We'll send an official report later this week...haveaniceday!" 

She joins John and starts walking down the street with him, both of them in a stunned silence. Finally, Melody can stand it no longer and and clears her throat. "We just broke into a crime scene...and lied to police officers."

"I really don't think that's the biggest thing we have to worry about right now." John replied solemnly. 

"They're going to arrest us. Or worse." Melody continues. "Or what if we're next to disappear? We went to the scene of the crime!" 

"Ms. Williams!" John turns to her. "I suggest you stop worrying about what the police are going to do, because believe me, there are much worse things at Holken!" He glances toward the nearest building-a pub-and opens the door. "C'mon, I need to tell you about something I saw."

Melody raises an eyebrow. Is this really the same man that had once insulted her ability to use a word processor? Who had given her cruel looks for months? She wasn't too happy about what had happened, and an outing with her rival coworker was just the cherry on top of a perfect day. Nevertheless, she follows him into the pub and sits across from him at a booth in the back corner. A server comes over to take their orders and John orders a red wine, Melody orders a chocolate milkshake. The server leaves and John looks at her oddly. 

"I don't drink." She explains a bit sheepishly. John shrugs and shakes his head, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

"Look before you say anything about the police or call me crazy-you might be right-I saw something you wouldn't believe." He explains the machine he saw to Melody as best as he can and she snorts and crosses her arms.

"A shuttlecock with a plunger attached to it attacked you? Don't be ridiculous."

"No, it didn't attack me. It just sort of screamed at me. It chased me down a hallways before I ran into you." John claims.

"Okay, I'll humor you. What did the monster say?"

"It just kept screaming 'doctor' and 'exterminate' at me."

A shiver goes down both of their spines. Melody bites the inside of her cheek and dwells on what John just said. She feels like she knows what he's talking about, knows the machine. More than that, she feels a sense of hatred spread throughout her, and that scares her. She looks at John and knows that he can feel it too. Something is happening that neither of them can explain, something insane.

"I...still think that it could be nothing. We really should let the police deal with it." Melody says, even though she is bursting with the urge to investigate. Their drinks come and she sips hers through a straw slowly. 

John nods, equally unsure. "It's the only thing we can do. But...can I ask you something?" He looks at Melody and sips his wine.

"I don't see why not." Melody shrugs.

"Why did you go to the crime scene?" He fixes her with a curious look, wondering if there was something she had known that he didn't. The thought makes his blood boil.

"Honestly? I just felt drawn to it. After all, it's all anyone talks about on the telly, and I live right around the corner so I just started walking and I...didn't stop." Melody laughs lightly. "I'm insane."

"No, that's why I went too."

"What, really?"

John nods and leans closer to her across the table, as if divulging a terrible secret. "I was reading about it all night, different blogs y'know? So this morning I just had to go take a look." He laughs under his breath. "Out of all the people I could ever see infiltrating a crime scene, I never thought it would be you."

Melody feels like she should disagree, but instead laughs with him. "Me neither. Then again, I didn't really expect to see you there either, Mr. Rules and Regulations."

John shrugs. "Well, the good thing is that it's all over now." he glances down to his watch and his eyes widen. "Damn it, I'm late for an appointment. I'd better be off." He quickly reaches into his pocket and sets some money on the table, enough to cover both their drinks and a hefty tip. "I'll see you on Monday." He nods at her and gives his glasses a quick adjustment before walking off. 

"See you." Melody says and watches him go. She is left to wonder just what is so intriguing about the crime scene and what the monster is, even if John has given up. She doesn't need him to get to the bottom of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm using a weird word processor so if there are any typos, please excuse them.)


	4. Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs, luggage, half-eaten meals. Rings. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back." -The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here are some things: 1) I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. 2) I know I'm not updating much, but once I am out of school in a week, I hope to update more. Three will be a new chapter at least every weekend. 3) Again, thanks for all the feedback. 4) I hope the end of this chapter isn't too confusing.

For the next week, as the disappearances grow more and more serious, two people living right in the middle of the danger make a point of not noticing it. John and Melody do not speak of the machine, Holken, or the fact that anything out of the ordinary had happened between them at all. When they are forced to be near each other in meetings (and God forbid speak to each other), they act like polite strangers who just happen to work in the same department of the same company. Needless to say, since John and Melody had been acting as repellent to each other as two sides of a magnet, some of their coworkers pick up on their sudden mood change. These coworkers take a great interest in John and Melody, they watch them carefully, sometimes taking notes and whispering in each others ears.

Though he remains fixed on his decision not to think about the machine, John fixates on something else. Melody. The ice between him and Melody is properly broken, but there is still a chill left behind. After the events on Saturday, John becomes quite confused at the storm of questions and curiosity battling his brain. He feels as if he knows Melody, which is of course ridiculous. Before a month ago he hadn't even bothered to learn her last name. Despite his strange sense of familiarity toward her, he also feels the need to learn more about her. Every single time the mere thought of Melody crosses his mind, John must try in vain to ignore it. Unfortunately, despite his stubbornness he cannot get the strange events of Saturday out of his mind either. He ponders incessantly about what the machine could have been, always telling himself it was an innocent sense of curiosity. Completely natural, nothing to worry about at all.

Melody is having as much trouble ignoring John as he is ignoring her. She is bursting to tell him all that she has researched about the machine and the disappearances. But it's clear that John wants no part in any of it. She has to admit-he's been much more polite since the incident. But she would almost prefer him not to be. It's torture, sharing a potentially dangerous secret with someone but not being able to bring it up at all.

On one unpleasant afternoon halfway through the week, John knocks on Melody's door with a stack of papers held under one arm.

“I've got the files you asked for yesterday.” He says as a way of greeting. Melody looks up from her computer at him.

“I thought you sent them over before you left?” She asks.

“Oh, did I? Must've forgotten...oops. My apologies Melo-Ms. Williams.” He corrects himself and turns to leave. John had known that he sent the papers to Melody already. He'd be lying if he says that fact hadn't crossed his mind about a thousand times on his way over to her office. However embarrassing it is to admit, he just feels the need to near her, to talk to her. But everything he wants to talk about is forbidden by an unspoken agreement between them.

Melody clears her throat and turns around in her swivel chair to face him entirely. “No no, it's fine.” She clears her throat once more awkwardly and looks in John's eyes. “I heard there were seven more disappearances this morning.”

John swallows nervously but hold Melody's gaze determinedly. “Yes, I heard about it on my way here. The police are still clueless. Quite terrible, don't you think?” John forces himself to contain his shock. He had thought that Melody didn't want to discuss the incident. Talking about disappearances was definitely discussing it. Or, he thinks, perhaps she feels just as worried as everyone else and has put Holken behind her. He couldn't blame her for that. Or maybe they both wanted to talk about it, but neither did for fear of what the other would think. John is so busy internally wondering what her previous statement could mean that he completely misses something Melody says. “What?” He asks ignorantly.

“I asked you if you really thought they were just disappearances?” Melody repeats and crosses her arms. “John, you and I both know that what we saw last week was not just something simple. We can't just ignore it-”

“And why not?” John interjects. “Why can't we just ignore it? It's dangerous and powerful and-and terrifying. Can anyone really blame us for not wanting to become involved in something so scary? We could die, Melody. We could be the next people to disappear. Or worse-that machine will catch up to us.” He shudders. No matter how much he had wanted to talk to Melody, he had always refrained because of one thing: fear.

Melody's expression softens a little and she stands. “I know you're scared. You don't think I am too? I''m terrified. But the thing is, we have knowledge that nobody else has. People are going missing every day. It's our job to do something about it, to try at least. Some things are more important than your own sense of self-preservation.”

John breaths in slowly through his nose, letting it out as a sigh. “I suppose you're right. But-”

“And don't you feel at least a little bit curious? A little bit drawn to the mystery? I don't know about you, but I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since we ran out of that building. It's the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me.”

John looks at her and bites his lip. He knows he should feel surprised that Melody is experiencing the same thing he is, but it feels normal. Like they should be the ones dealing with it. Which is ridiculous, he thinks, because he would gladly rid himself of the knowledge and responsibility if he could. “Fine.” He says shortly. “I'm not going to deny that there is something happening, and that it is very likely that we are the only ones that know about it. But we can't talk about it in the open, and certainly not here.” He glances over his shoulder as if there might be others listening in, before whispering, “Meet me outside around seven, okay? I have to get back to my office...I have a meeting coming up.” Just like he did in the pub, John turns and leaves without a goodbye. while the part about the meeting may have been a lie, John isn't stupid. He knows that what they are dealing with can't be discussed casually, no matter how much they both want to. Melody nods, unable to hold back a smile as she sits back down and resumes working.

Down the hall, two of John and Melody's coworkers sit in a tiny office, listening in on the conversation shared between the two people on a small piece of technology. They glance at each other nervously before turning off the surveillance device.

“This is bad, this is really really bad.” Amy says while beginning to pace in the small space they have. “They were supposed to lay low, that's what the Doctor said. Lay low and they would be able to come back.”

“And now they're going to investigate Daleks. Together.” Rory sighs. “It's been five months of them hating each other. Five months of us following them to their boring meetings. Why did they have to choose now to start becoming themselves again?” He sits on their desk and crosses his arms. “Even if they're different people, the Silence won't be fooled if they see them running around chasing aliens together.”

There is a short period of silence before Amy stops pacing and speaks. “I kind of like that they're talking.” She admits.

“Me too.” Rory agrees. “It was weird, seeing them act like they hate each other. I've seen them have their fights, but that was so different.” He shakes his head. “It's still bad.”

“Yeah, but it's not like we can get in the way.” Amy shrugs. “If the Silence saw us with them, our cover would be blown for sure. I guess all we can do is to keep watching them.”

“I guess so.” Rory agrees with a sigh. “It's what we always do.” The Ponds look at each other with slumped shoulders. It had been a long five months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using a weird word processor, so please let me know of any typos I may have overlooked. Thanks!


	5. A Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs, luggage, half-eaten meals. Rings. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back." -The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! :) I know this chapter is coming a bit later than I had intended, but now I am on summer break and the wait between them will not be as long! As always, thank you for your continuing support.

The time between her conversation with John and their meeting outside Bissig is agonizing. Melody can't seem to get her mind off the few sentences they had exchanged. Why had John faltered at the thought of doing something, anything, to stop the disappearances? It is so clear to her, she thinks. Her voluntary attitude toward the dangerous situation had been almost automatic, which is odd to her. Melody never thought she would be one to take risks, let alone potentially fatal ones. She smiles to herself while writing an email; apparently, despite her mundane life she was still capable of surprising even herself.

By the time all of the company's conference calls, meetings, and micromanaging for the day is complete, Melody dons a chartreuse leather jacket that feels like butter in her hands, so soft and pliable that it sometimes feels as if it is made of nothing at all. She feels her coworkers' eyes on her apparel as she walks out of the office but tries not to pay it much mind. Before she had gotten her job at Bissig five or six months ago, she had never had the need to dress fancy. She isn't about to conform to every aspect of the dress code, especially because the jacket it just too warm. She doesn't mind that it looks odd over her button down and dress pants.

However, John raises his eyesbrows and gives Melody an critical look as she makes her way out of the building. If he minds that she sticks out like a sore thumb, he doesn't say anything. She's a bit surprised at this, but refuses to comment on it. The non-mentioning of the jacket is an unspoken agreement between the two, a "don't ask don't tell" policy.

"Shall we?" Melody says with a warm smile, eager to wipe the unpleasant look off of John's face. She steps toward him and he glances over her shoulder, as if a metal machine might pop up from the sewers at any moment.

"Sure-I mean, we shall." John gives her a small smile and takes off his glasses, giving them a quick swipe on his own jacket before return them to the top of his nose. He loves his glasses, as odd as it sounds. They give him a certain air of knowingness, they help him fit in.

John starts walking, his muscles tense from a long day of work and worry. Melody walks loosely next to him, curious as to where he has deemed a safe enough place to speak about their predicament. Not his home, surely. She wonders whether he has a home at all, or if he simply works into the night and showers in the company restroom. She giggles at the thought, breaking the silence that had been hanging so tangibly between them.

"What?" John asks distractedly while turning his head to look at her. She feels a blush blossom in her cheeks and looks straight ahead.

"Oh nothing, darling. Just thinking to myself." She waves the subject off, but John does not miss the endearment she had added to the sentence.

Eventually, Melody can take the mystery no longer and asks, "Where are we going?"

John shrugs, the most calm thing Melody has ever seen him do. "Just a little pub I know, we can talk aboout things there. It's small but loud so we won't be at risk of being overheard." _By who?_ he wonders.

Melody nods and pauses a moment before turning to John with one eyebrow arched. "You're taking me to a pub in order to 'talk about things'?" She shakes her head, an amused smile playing on her lips. "And for a moment I thought you were interested in the case John. Tsk tsk."

John crosses his arms, now also blushing for a completely different reason. "Well it's better than talking in your office isn't it? Anyone could have been listening in! Just because the small but loud building we are going to happens to have drinks for sale does not mean that this is anything but business. Purely business." He sniffs and looks away, hoping she won't notice the color added to his cheeks. She is so so wrong, so wrong that he cannot even begin to fathom how she could come to such a conclusion. Perhaps he just enjoyed discussing things outside of  work, it had worked the first time they had decided to talk. He had liked it-not that that had meant he had specifically picked that pub because of its smallness...that would be completely ridiculous.

By the time they reach the pub, the sun is low in the sky and there is a deep chill in the air. Melody enters as John holds the door for her, and shivers as the heat from the building warms her cheeks. She points to a table in the back of the pub (which is quite small, just as John had promised) and he nods in agreement. Together they sit at the rickety wooden table and lean in to whisper to each other.

“Okay, let's start with what we know, shall we?” John says reluctantly. He had not really known what he was going to say to Melody. It seems like she has all the information, and he is simply someone along for the ride. He would have been content with doing nothing if she hadn't guilt-tripped him. Come to think of it, she had quite the god complex.

Melody smiles at John excitedly, despite the reason for them being in the pub. “Well,” She begins in a know-it-all voice. “I did some research on the crimes last night-you know, the disappearances- and it turns out that the mass majority of those taken are athletes. Not random people like we thought. Most of the people who have disappeared rank high on physical fitness tests.”

“So, the person taking all these people has a weird thing for athletes? Plausible, I guess.” John shrugs.

Melody raises an eyebrow. “You really think it is just a single person who is taking all these people? A single person burnt down Holken? What about that machine that yelled at you?”

John cringes. He hates thinking about the machine that haunts his dreams. “Okay okay, so something even more odd than usual is going on here. But why would the...thing that's taking people want them to be physically fit?”

Melody pauses to think. “What sort of things does fitness come in handy for?”

John chews on the inside of his lip while his thinks. “Sports?”

Melody chuckles a little. “Yes, metal machines are kidnapping people to form a deadly football team. I ,for one, am terrified.” She rolls her eyes.

John crosses his arms. “I thought it was a good idea. Okay, what about an army?”

Melody snorts in reply.

“What? Now I'm the crazy one? I thought you wanted to have a serious conversation about this.”

“I did. I do! It just seems a bit unrealistic when you think about it. Metal machines taking people to form an army...why don't they just attack by themselves. They're literally _machines made of metal.”_

“What about this is realistic, hm? A salt shaker attacked me and called me 'doctor' and apparently athletes are being taken from thier beds every day. We can't just leave anything out!” He makes a wide gesture with his hands as if to emphasize his point and Melody smirks. “What?!” He asks loudly.

“Nothing nothing...” She says in an amused tone. “I was just thinking about the fact that even though I practically had to beg you to talk about all this, you seem to be more passionate about it than I am.”

John feels a flush creep up his neck. “Yes well...you're very persuasive.” He bites his tongue after speaking-that had not come out how he had intended it to. “The question is: what are we going to do about this? If we tell the police they won't believe us, and we'll have admitted to sneaking into a crime scene.”

Melody nods in agreement, making John sit up a bit taller. “We have no 'actual evidence' either.” She makes air quotes with her fingers. “Why don't we learn a bit more about this and then talk to the authorities?”

John pushes his glasses up his nose and smiles cheekily. “You mean snoop.”

Melody sighs. “Sure, snoop. Whatever. We can come back some time and talk about what we learned.” She is about to launch into a more in-depth plan when John looks over her shoulder.

“Speaking of snooping, do you get the feeling we're being watched?” He narrows his eyes at a ginger woman and a man with a rather large nose who had been leaning in toward them. "I think we have a few eavesdroppers.”

“I think we do.” Melody says. However, she is not looking at the couple. She is looking at a man in the front of the pub that is wearing an eyepatch. “Let's get out of here.”

John nods and together they stand, leaving the pub feeling more liberated and nervous than they had previously been.

 


	6. The Unexpected Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs, luggage, half-eaten meals. Rings. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back." -The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has been a long time since I updated, hasn't it? I'll spare us both the cliche-ness of writing a long sappy list of excuses. But I apologize. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Let me know what you think!

Weeks pass, then months. The time feels as though it slips by in the blink of an eye now that John and Melody are working together. John’s job at Bissig now becomes a mere hobby in comparison to all the work he is doing on their investigation. He no longer finds himself reluctant when trouble heads his way, but excited-ready for anything.

John spends his days fulfilling his duties at Bissig in his usual manner, and his nights eavesdropping on conversations, following people in stiff black suits and eyepatches (that usually turn out to be false leads) and talking to Melody. Most of the time, they talk about their work. Sometimes, when he is lucky, they talk about their own lives. John could listen to Melody talk for hours, he had thought that she was a simple, boring, law-abiding person such as himself, but to his surprise she tells him about the time she dyed her hair pink as a teenager, and the time she accidentally stole a taxi. Really though, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.

John feels a bit embarrassed when he cannot come up with a single interesting thing to tell Melody about himself that she has not already figured out. He grew up in a normal home, received excellent marks all throughout school, and had his first kiss at a boring school dance like any other Average Joe.

The business concerning the disappearing people keeps John and Melody up into the late hours of the night constantly. They have gathered more information together than they would have had they worked alone, but their data is incomplete. For example, they know where all of the disappearing people end up (the basement under Holken), but they do not know how they get there. John managed to overhear a woman in an eyepatch discussing plans for a shipment of stainless steel to be delivered to Holken, but the use of the steel is still a mystery to the pair. One night, Melody calls him in a frenzy, her voice thick and shaky. She tells him that she just walked by Holken on her way home. The sounds from the basement chilled here to the core. There was shrill screaming, and the repeating mantra of   
John comforts her to the best of his abilities, but he finds himself unable to sleep that night.

On a simple Wednesday night, John trudges into his flat and shimmies his jacket off, the thoughts of relaxing with a glass of expensive wine and a good book already permeating his mind. He reclines on his couch and takes a sip of white wine. Melody told him to take a night off, she had said something about taking a look at Holken on her way home. Everything is perfect. For the first time, John feels very relaxed.

On his second glass of wine, the phone rings.

John sets down his glass reluctantly and picks up the phone. “Hello?”

“John!” Melody gasps through the phone.

John sits up straighter, feeling more alert despite the inhibitors in his system. “It’s me, what’s happening?”

Melody takes a deep breath before launching into a story. “I was walking past Holken on my way home to get my camera when I saw news trucks pulled up. I walked closer and I realized that there were those...machines screaming and firing stuff at civilians. I ran into Holken and I’m trying to find out more.”

As soon as John hears Melody’s mention of a news crew, he turns on the television. Sure enough, there is footage of those shiny monsters firing bright light at ordinary people. He feels a fierce sense of protectiveness for Melody, but also gratefulness that she is there to gather information. Johns knows he certainly couldn’t sneak into a place like that without tripping over at least three cracks in the pavement.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Try and see if you can get a view of the basement. They might be distracted now.”

Melody hums in agreement.

“And Melody?” John swallows and feels his ears grow warm. “Be careful. Okay?”

Melody has already hung up.

\----------------------------------------

By the time John arrives at Holken, the air is thick with the scent of burning metal and people lay limply on the ground. There is too much death for his taste, and he bites the inside of his cheek while crouching low and running into the building. If Melody got where they had planned, she should be at the entrance to the basement. He makes it about halfway there before a small hand yanks on his lapels and pulls him into a janitor’s closet.

Disoriented, John swings his fists about in the dark. “I’m warning you- I have a weapon!”

There is a laugh in the dark. “That’s your plan against malicious people-stealing machines? Why am I not surprised?”

John lets out a relieved sigh and puts his hand over Melody’s bringing it down from his lapels. To his own surprise, he gives her hand a squeeze before dropping it and looking around. “How come you aren’t in the basement?”

Melody motions in the direction of the basement with her head and rolls her eyes. “Eyepatches everywhere. I couldn’t risk it. Funny, I’m not hearing a lot of noises from the basement.”

John frowns and looks at her grimly. “That’s because they’re all slaughtering people outside.” Melody’s expression matches John’;s thoughts: They have to do something.

After discussing various plans, all of which involve the necessity for superhuman strength as well as the power to turn invisible, Melody throws her hands up in defeat. “This is never going to work! All of our plans are centered around the concept of getting inside the battle from this direction.”

John pushes his glasses up his nose in frustration and shakes his head. “And your suggestion is?”

Melody opens the door to a (thankfully) empty hallway. “Why don’t we enter the battle from the outside, just like how we entered the building? We can go back on the street and then sneak in again.”

John nods and takes her hand. The next thing he knows, they are running, down the hall and out of the building. There is a loud explosion from behind them, resulting in a fine layer of dust coating them both. Luckily, John and Melody make it safely back onto the street without a scratch on either of them.

However, the violence still continues meters away from them. The sounds of death and pain clench John’s heart, and he holds Melody’s hand more firmly as if to steady them both. But Melody pulls her hand away, instead running to a fallen police officer and retrieving their gun.

John stares in shock. “What the hell are you doing?”

Melody turns to him, unconsciously taking the safety off the gun. “Just an instinct, get down!”

John’s eyes widen and he crouches down just as bullets begin whizzing out of Melody’s gun. He can hardly believe it. Melody, the one who wanted peace and for other’s to be safe, is now firing a gun like she’s been doing it all her life.

The metal machines that had been firing on innocent people stop when they see who is behind the gun. While shielding himself in order to get a better view of the action, John notes that they seem to be backing away. The machines chant something about a song, or a stream or something. John can’t quite remember. But soon enough, the enemy is gone.  
John stands and stares at Melody. She stands at the center of destruction, a look of pure confusion upon her face.


	7. Good and Bad Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs, luggage, half-eaten meals. Rings. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back." -The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this chapter in my head from the moment I started writing this story. I hope you like it as much as I do.

Through a complicated series of running and hiding, John and Melody escape the fight scene.  They run from the camera crews that are trying to get a fix on Melody's face.  They hide from police cars and military vehicles that swarm the surrounding area.  And finally, after a long night, they stumble into John's flat.  Melody had barely spoken the entire way there, she only nodded when John asked her if she wanted to sleep on his couch.

"You're right in the area, there's bound to be police everywhere."  He had said.

Now they stand in his sitting room.  John feels very awkward, since he had never actually had anyone over to his flat in...ever.  However, Melody barely seems to sense his mood.  The events of the night are finally beginning to catch up with her, it seems, and she begins to pace.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my god," she says under her breath.  John puts a hand on her shoulder.  Melody looks him in the eye, fear turning her mouth into a frown.  "I killed people."

"We don't know that-"

"I was shooting like crazy!  How did that happen?  I'm a bloody pacifist for gods sake!  I've never shot a gun in my life."

"You were scared, anyone would have done it."

"You were there too and you seemed to be perfectly calm!"  Melody runs a hand through her messy hair and sighs.

"Well...you ended it, didn't you?  Probably saved a few lives."  John nudges Melody's shoulder in an attempt to cheer her up, but is evidently unsuccessful.  She turns away and huffs.

"There were camera crews."

"What?"

"Camera crews!  There were cameras everywhere that probably got an eyeful of me being GI Jane!  Oh god I'm going to be arrested and thrown in jail...."

"You were a bystander!"  John says, taken aback by her outburst.  "You did what you thought was right!"

"Yeah...I didn't really think at the time though and-"

"Not to mention that the authorities have got bigger fish to fry, considering that they now have proof that aliens are snatching people up."

Melody looks at him with a raised eyebrow, her personality returning a little.  "That's what it is?  Aliens?"

John nods solemnly.  "Has to be, right?"

Melody nods in agreement and chews on her thumbnail, temporarily distracted from the consequences of the fight (for which John is grateful).  He tries to ignore the smile that appears on his lips as he watches-no-looks at her face.  There are bigger things to think about than he feelings.

Suddenly, Melody yawns and looks at the couch on the far wall of the sitting room.  "I'm going to bed, if that's okay."

"'Course it is.  You can take my bed-"

"No, I'll be fine thanks."  She gives him a small nod and he knows that she wants privacy.

"Whatever you want."  He shrugs.

Fifteen minutes later, Melody is asleep on his couch and John watches a recap of the fight on his computer.  It is just as bad as he expected, the cameras seemed to dramatize Melody's random shooting to turn her into some kind of vigilante.  He groans and closes his laptop, knowing that they'll both have to deal with it tomorrow.  Finally, after worrying, exhaustion takes over and John falls asleep.

__________________

Tick tock goes the clock...

She is cold and afraid and she doesn't know where she is.  She can't move and it is dark and she is so scared.  There are people, she doesn't know who, but they want her to do something.  They are making her do it.  She is so scared.  All she can see is water, she is surrounded by it and she thinks she may drown and she is so scared.  She is walking, rising out of the water.  Daylight burns her eyes.  She approaches a man.  No, she approaches him.  He is wearing a bow tie and talking to her except she can't hear the words because she is so scared and out of control.  He looks at her with old eyes and she reaches out.  There's a bang, followed by another, and she watches as John falls to the sand, dead.

Melody wakes up, panting as of she had just been running for a long time.  That dream had felt so real, almost like a memory.  But that's ridiculous.  Either way, it has left her feeling unsettled.  Surely if she checks to see if John is okay, she'll be able to fall back asleep.

Melody's breath catches in her throat when she pads lightly into Johns room, only to find him missing from his bed.  She checks the clock, seven thirty in the morning.  John should still be asleep, shouldn't he?  Out of the corner of her eye, Melody sees a hallway door cracked.  She can see a variety of bright colors within.  Though it is completely rude considering she is his guest, Melody steps into the room and gasps.

Lining the walls are paintings, some as small as a mobile phone and others several feet across.  There is a painting showing a girl with blonde hair and a pink dress.  Another painting shows a woman with red hair and a man with brown hair and a fairly large nose.  They look happy, embracing each other, and Melody feels a string pull at her heart.  Some pictures are stunningly beautiful.  Crystal cliffs and silver spires and swirling galaxies.  Melody feels tears well up as she lays her eyes on a large painting of a top of a pyramid with a violet background.  Some paintings are simply ridiculous, though expertly done.  There are aliens of every kind, shining metal spaceships full of metal men with hollow eyes, and even an aluminum dog.

There is a whole corner of the wall, Melody discovers, devoted to her.  Well, someone that looks like her.  The Melody in the paintings looks much more relaxed.  There is something about the way she carries herself.  Strong, clever, determined, beautiful.  Melody feels like none of those things, but she is flattered that John painted her nonetheless. There's is a particular painting that catches her eye.  She is standing tall with a hand on her hip and another on what looks like a gun.  In another painting, she stands beside thick bars of a prison, a distant and cold look on her face.

The last painting Melody looks at takes her breath away.  John is featured in this one, though he looks very different.  It is him all the same.

He is lacking glasses, but wears a tweed jacket and a bow tie.  Melody is close to him, her hands wrapped around his red suspenders as if she had pulled him to her.  Their lips meet passionately, but there is a certain softness.  There is a longing, and a swell of affection in Melody’s chest.  The painting is a frozen moment of love, and Melody feels as if she is invading something very private.  She is about to turn back and act as if she had never discovered the room when a voice startles her.

"I guess the jig is up, isn't it?"  Johns nervous voice sounds from the doorway.

Melody turns to him and snorts.  "You realize that nobody has used the expression for about thirty years, right?"  She steps toward him and looks around.  "What is this, John?  It's beautiful...I didn't know you could paint."

John shrugs.  "Neither did I.  I was always rubbish at it, up until a few months ago.  I started having these dreams, really vivid ones, y'know?  Anyways, I discovered that painting the things I saw helped me get them out of my head."

Melody raises an eyebrow and feels warmth in her cheeks as she looks back at the picture of their kiss.

"It's not us!"  John says hurriedly.  "Well, I know it is technically us, but they're different.  They're not us, I don't know their names but they are definitely not us."  His face is as red as his bow tie in the painting.

Melody nods slowly.  "I know what you mean.  I like it."

"You do?"

"Yes."  She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose.  "I had a dream last night-a nightmare-and I knew the whole time that it wasn't really me.  You were in it too."  To answer John's questioning gaze, she continues.  "I killed you."  She chuckles.  "What does that say about me?"

John chuckles along with her, the discomfort of his story wearing off.  "I don't know, why don't you write it down?  A dream journal or something.  Sometimes they can help you sort out your ideas and whatnot.”

Melody nods in consideration.  “Have you ever kept one?”

“No,”  John shakes his head.  “I must have read about it somewhere...or seen a program about it on the TV.”  The idea had simply entered his head, but it felt like it had been there the whole time.  John is more tired than he thinks, most likely.  “Coffee?”

Melody nods gratefully.  “I’m surprised I’ve gotten along this far without any.  Black is fine for me, two sugars, thanks.”

John glances at his kitchen.  “Er...I don’t think I’ve got any in.”  He gives Melody an apologetic look.  “I can get us soke, there;s a shop just round the corner.”  Rain pounds on the building, and he has to raise his voice to speak his offer.  Melody shakes her head fervently.

“I really don’t need coffee that badly.”  She says over the rain, but John  is already pulling on his jacket.  She follows him into the hallway and smiles a little, amused by how he is acting.  Almost cute, she thinks, before reminding herself that John is by no means cute.  Although, as he  trips sleepily down the hall with a determined look on his face, she must disagree with herself.  “Don’t get pneumonia,”  She warns him playfully.

“No promises.”  He says in a sing-song voice, causing Melody to roll her eyes.  John begins to open the door, but Melody puts a hand on his shoulder to halt him.

“John,”  She steps closer to him.

John raises an eyebrow.  “Black, no sugar, got it.”

She shakes her head, some of her wild hair tickling his face.  “Actually…”  Looking slightly nervous, she leans forward just enough so that their lips are touching.  John is instantly overwhelmed by his senses.  The smell of her shampoo mingled with the gunpowder from the fight.  The curve of her waist as he rests his hands on it, moving closer to her.  The softness of her cheek as he nuzzles it with his nose.  The kiss begins out of the blue and ends similarly.  Melody pulls away and takes a step back so they are not touching.  “I really like that painting.”  She says softly.  John smiles back and ignores the hammering of his heart.  Is it his heart?  The rain?  He is disoriented in the best way and cannot tell.

  
“Black, two sugars.”  Melody says with a small smirk.  John nods and backs out of the door, feeling pleasantly happy despite the fact that he has forgotten an umbrella.


	8. Strange Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It has been sooooo long! I noticed the attention this story was getting, and read a few comments, and felt compelled to jump back into it. I hope I haven't kept you waiting for too long! I am truly sorry. Now that school's back in session, I should be more focused and chapters should be more frequent. Here's a short little chapter that I've had in mind since I came up with the premise for this fic to introduce us all back into the story. Let me know what you think! It's been a little while since I've written these characters so I could use all the critiques I can get!

If anyone had told John Smith two months ago that he would have been skipping down the street in the rain after being kissed by Melody Williams, he would have laughed.  But now he finds himself not quite skipping, but walking with a spring in his step to the coffee shop despite the rain.  Melody had reacted quite differently to his paintings than he had expected.  And John very much prefers kissing to his nightmares of Melody screaming and running away.

By the time he reaches the coffee shop, John's euphoria is wearing off and he brushes his sopping fringe out of his eyes.To his surprise, he remembers Melody’s coffee order and even levaes a tip for the barista.  The latter surprises him the most-he definitely would not have been that considerate before he met Melody.  He supposes he has simply learned from example.  After all, Melody has always been the one that tipped extra when they went out for drinks, the one to hold doors for large groups of elderly people and hand money to the homeless when walking home.  Melody Williams has made him a better person, and for that he is grateful.

By the time John exits the coffee shop, the rain has been reduced to a fair mist.  However, the streets are still quite empty, most likely a result of the events from the night before.  John reckons that most people are either staying inside out of fear, or are at the scene of the crime.  To his surprise, two figures walk hastily through the mist, stopping abruptly when they notice him.  Who are they?  Certainly not anyone he’s ever spoken to.  The woman on the right is wearing a lab coat and thick glasses.  Perhaps she would look more distinguished is she were not also wearing a long, brightly striped scarf.  John suppresses a snort when he looks at her and moves his inquisitive gaze to the other woman.  A businesswoman or something like that, he thinks.  This woman is a little older, with short blonde hair and a pantsuit.  The most worrying thing about both of these women are the looks on their faces.  They both show mixes of anger and concern, but the older woman speaks first in a confused voice before John can ask what the matter is.

“Doctor?  Oh thank goodness, we’ve been calling you for hours.  Where in the universe have you been?”  She sighs and shakes her head.  “You’re here now, I suppose.  Have you got any ideas about why Daleks have decided to kidnap people by the thousands without any attack for weeks?”

John shifts his weight and swallows.  These people are trying to solve the same problem that he is, and that means that there is the opportunity for him to gain more information.  If they think he is some doctor, why should he tell them otherwise?  “Er...no?”  He says pathetically.

The woman in the scarf, who had gotten out a notebook and pen in the hopes of taking down facts, looks slightly disappointed.  “What have you been doing, if you don’t mind me asking?”

John shrugs.  “Uh...undercover work...yes!  That’s it!” He leans in to whisper to the two women.  “I’m undercover, conducting very secret and important research on those metal things underneath Holken.  It’s all very er...hush hush, if you know what I mean.”

Both of the women nod in understanding and John mentally applauds himself at his quick thinking.  “Have-have you got any information I ought to know?”  This might be pushing his luck, John knows that, but as long as he has anyone that might know anything, he is going to utilize his resources.

The older woman nods but then raises an eyebrow.  “Why don’t you ask Professor Song?”

Before he can stop himself, John asks, “Professor who?”

To his surprise, both women laugh.  “”Like you wouldn’t realize your own wife was shooting daleks on the telly!” The scarf-wearing one mutters with a smirk.  John raises an eyebrow.  

“I assure you both that I am not married, nor do I ever intend to be.”  He regrets saying this a moment later when both women go from looking amused to annoyed.  The older woman actually steps forward with a determined look in her eye.  John swallows nervously and avoids looking her in the eye.

“Doctor, this little costume you have is really quite cute, but this is serious.  Professor Song is one of our most trusted allies.  You can’t honestly expect us to get anything done if you two aren’t talking, can you?”

John looks at his shoes, feeling as if he is being scolded.  “No, of course not.  You’re quite right.”  He looks the woman in the eye and gives her a small nod, a bit surprised to see the one in the scarf blush.  “I’ll contact her as soon as I can.”

John parts with the two confusing people, feeling as if he had done something wrong, but doesn’t know what on Earth it could be.  They called him a doctor, but he was far from it.  A doctor helped people, and even though he tried as hard as he could (with help from Melody, of course) he had not been able to accomplish much.  John dwells on this meeting uncomfortably for the rest of the walk back to his flat.  John thinks he may be in the clear as he takes out his keys to the building, but he feels a heavy tap on his shoulder and sighs.

“Yes?”  He asks sullenly while turning around, feeling like his old, pre-Melody self.  A man stands in front of him apprehensively, holding a small child in his arms.  The man is large with a round and kind face, looking at John like he’s known him his whole life.  John racks his brain for an idea of who this man might be, but comes up blank.

“Doctor?”  The man smiles and then frowns at John’s scowl.  “It’s me, Craig.  Oh-or have you not met me yet?  Time travel, never really understood it.  I s’pose it could work out that way, though…” He finishes awkwardly as John gawks at him with a mix of annoyance and bewilderment on his face.  

“Why do people insist on calling me a doctor?”  He asks with a bit more spite than is necessary.  "I’m not a doctor, not even close!  I work in a cubicle and manage business plans, not save lives!  And I'd really appreciate it if people would stop unloading all of their problems on me!”

The man-Craig-raises an eyebrow defensively and shifts the baby to his hip.  “Oh yeah, sure.”  He says with a sarcastic glee to his voice.  “I came all the way out here with my son to help you with this-this,”  He whispers.  “ _Dalek thing._ But I suppose you’re just too busy to speak to me.”  He gives John a glare and John looks at his shoes, feeling guilty but not quite sure why.  “We’re staying at the hotel round the corner, call if you need me.  And if you’re not who I think you are, don’t call.”  Craig turns on his heel and marches away, grumbling about travel costs.  

“I’m not a bloody doctor, and I never will be,”  John mutters angrily as he stomps up the stairs to his flat, pouring hot coffee on his shoes in the process.  

 


	9. The Day Off and the Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're all thinking: "Two chapters in less than a week!" And I too am surprised. Well, I guess that's what procrastination gets you, huh? Anyways, I have a question. would you guys prefer shorter chapters that are uploaded more often (like this one) or longer chapters that take a bit longer? (Although the chapters probably wouldn;t be this short, I just had to get this scene out of my head) Let me know, and as always, your comments are appreciated!

After a soggy trek up to his flat, John walks through the door wearily.  He holds Melody's coffee out and walks through the rooms in search of her.  Finally, he finds her in the kitchen, standing over a frying pan of scrambled eggs and staring off into space.  He clears his throat and she starts with a small gasp.  
  
"It's rude to sneak up on people."  She teases as she takes the coffee out of his hand and talks a long gulp of it, humming her approval gratefully.  
  
"It's rude to go through someone else's kitchen."  He counters with a smirk, surveying the food prepared on the table.  "I didn't know I had all this."

  
Melody rolls her eyes and tosses a spatula in his sink.  "You didn't.  At least, not like this.  Ever heard of cooking?"  She pushes a plate loaded with eggs toward him and they sit at the table, opposite each other.  John shrugs and swallows a forkful of eggs before he speaks up. "You had an...odd look on your face when I came in.  Something wrong?"  When Melody raises an eyebrow, he adds, "Besides the usual."

 

Melody shrugs and mixes her eggs around aimlessly on her plate.  "I started writing down my dreams while you were gone, could have written a novel in all the time you were out."  John smiles sheepishly with apology in his eyes.  Melody takes another sip of coffee and continues.  "You were right, it did help get them all out of my head.  I never realized how jumbled all my memories had been."  She scrunches her nose and John makes a conscious effort to focus on her words instead of the adorable expression on her face.

  
"But?" He encourages.  
  
"But..."  She sighs.  "I realized something.  They're all linked, my dreams are.  I've had the one about killing you for a few weeks, and then there are some I've had intermittently about saving your life, too."  
  
"Mixed signals," John interjects with a snort, causing Melody to stick her tongue out at him.  
  
"There's a lot of random nonsense mixed in, too.  Voices without faces and things I keep forgetting and whatnot.  And this is the strangest part, that dream I have about killing you is very similar to some of your paintings.  You're wearing a jacket and bow tie, in it, and not glasses.  There's one word I keep hearing, it must be meaningful.  Something about you, maybe your name."  She closes her eyes and tries to focus.  "I can't remember, but it's on the tip of my tongue."  
  
John speaks up, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu.  "Doctor?"  He suggests.  
  
Melody snaps her fingers and grins.  "That's it! The Doctor!  That's what you're called in my dreams!"  When John does not smile, she tilts her head to the side and frowns.  "What's wrong?"  
  
John pushes his glasses up his nose and sighs, launching into a long explanation of why he was late with the coffee.  By the end, he is stressed and confused and could really use the coffee that is soaking into his shoes.  Melody chews on her thumbnail and ponders the significance of what she has just been told.  
  
"So," she begins slowly, breaking the silence.  "I have dreams about the Doctor, people and those aliens think you're the Doctor, and you're having dreams about the Doctor and me.  What does that mean?"  
  
John throws his hands up.  "How should I know?  Maybe I am the Doctor."  He laughs.  "It's got to be a coincidence.  Well whoever the Doctor is, I don't envy him."  
  
"Yeah," Melody shakes her head.  "Me neither."  
  
  
They spend the rest of the morning in a comfortable silence.  Melody sprawls out on the floor with a stack of paper, writing out her dreams in as much detail as she can remember.  She hums quietly to herself and takes multiple tea breaks, not wanting to 'melt her brain'as she claims while looking for the sugar.  In sharp contrast to her, John works diligently at his paintings, not stopping to eat or rest.  He even shushes Melody when she mutters something out loud.  No wonder they could never get along at work, they're polar opposites.  
  
Around three, John finally takes a break to sneak up on Melody.  Though his clumsy limbs nearly give him away, he spins her around while at the kitchen counter and plants a chaste kiss on her lips, claiming that they are now even.  She laughs and rolls her eyes with a fond, "You wish."  Together, they clean up and order takeout, eating it while watching  some silly science fiction show on the television.  Anything is better than watching the news and being reminded of their mission on their day off from running about.  Melody falls asleep on John's couch early, still exhausted from the events of the day before.  John stays up, reading the accounts of her dreams and wondering who the mysterious Professor Song is.


	10. Familiar Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melody wants to refuse. She wants to grab John’s hand in an iron grip and run as fast as she can in the opposite direction. At least she thinks she should want that. Despite the obvious red flags that have been popping up in the conversation, she feels oddly drawn to Amy and Rory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Insert generic apology about not updating]. Sorry about that, by the way. But marching season is over now, so I should have more free time to write. This is just a short chapter to get back in the mood, and I hope you enjoy it! Please comment and tell me what you think, I haven't written in a while and I want to make sure this matches up with the rest of the story. Thanks!

Time passes in its usual manner, unaware of the events happening around it.  The disappearances increase, public fear is at an all time high, and two people in particular seem to be glancing over their shoulders more than usual.  Their coworkers and friends start to disappear, leaving only them, a handful of people, and a strange couple with a large nose and red hair in the Bissig building every day.  It’s a miracle anyone goes to work at all.  But then again, nothing seems to be able to stop the mysterious force stealing people away.

One day, after a hurried walk to work, John and Melody both agree that they have had enough.  The march into their superior’s office side by side and resign.  The event is not uncommon, since so many people have taken to cowering in their homes most of the time, but   it’s quite a surprise to everyone, because out of all the people in the universe, John Smith and Melody Williams were never expected to agree with each other.

The unlikely duo are just about to begin the trek to John’s flat-it has become a makeshift base for their investigation-when they are stopped by two familiar-looking strangers the moment they walk out the door.

“Oi!”  The red-haired woman says as John almost walks into her.  He flushes and straightens his glasses, muttering an apology.  He is about to continue on his way, taking Melody’s hand, when the other woman grabs his arm.  John forces himself to look her in the eye and feels a flutter of recognition, like a soft whisper in the back of his mind.  It is gone the moment he pursues it, and leaves him feeling both frustrated and curious.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats a bit louder, eager to get off the streets.  “Are you quite alright?”

The woman looks at him closely and then nods.  “Fine thanks.  I’m Amy, and this is Rory.”  She points to the large-nosed man with her other hand.  “But I usually call him Stupid Face.”  

The man-Rory-sighs.  “Only she gets to call me that.  It’s lucky that we bumped into you-literally.  We were hoping to talk to you, maybe in private?  We know you’re trying to get to the bottom of all these disappearances, and so are we.  Maybe if we worked together, we could actually help some people.”  John and Melody exchange looks of surprise before Melody nods slowly.  

“Where?”

Rory looks at her with a mixture of wisdom and pride, a gaze that causes Melody to squirm internally.  “A pub just a few blocks away.  Trust me, you know it.”  He leans in close to the pair and whispers, “You always sit in the back corner by the kitchen, right?”  

John and Melody share stunned looks, but Rory leans closer still.  “You probably haven’t seen us there, but we are.  We may have been watching you...a bit.”  Amy elbows him and gives him a cross look.  “I’m sorry, I wish I could make that sound less creepy.  But we have a good explanation!”  He claims.  “Just come with us.  I swear, you can leave at any time.  No pressure.”

Melody wants to refuse.  She wants to grab John’s hand in an iron grip and run as fast as she can in the opposite direction.  At least she thinks she should want that.  Despite the obvious red flags that have been popping up in the conversation, she feels oddly drawn to Amy and Rory.  They seem familiar, almost like family.  That’s ridiculous, of course, she tells herself.  She’s never seen them in her life, and she would definitely remember running into people as eccentric and mysterious as them.  Against every logical and self-preservative impulse her brain shouts at her, Melody nods and stands up straighter.  “Fine.  But I’m going to need a full explanation.”  

“That can be arranged.”  Amy says with a smirk.

****  
  


While being led by the two strangers to the pub they frequent, John whispers harshly to Melody.  “Are you out of your mind?!  These people have already admitted to bloody stalking us, and now you want to walk through dark alleys with them?  I had a feeling I wouldn’t come out alive on the other side of this whole alien thing, but I didn’t exactly expect this.”

Melody snorts and throws an arm around John’s shoulders.  “Oh calm down, sweetie.  You’re being dramatic.  I would never let you die.  Apparently, I’m quite good with guns, remember?”  She kisses his cheek and John smiles reluctantly.  

“Well, I suppose this could be helpful.  We weren’t really accomplishing much on our own, were we?”

Melody grins.  “Now you’re getting it, sweetie.  Just look on the bright side.  They haven’t killed us yet.”

John glowers.

****  
  


The pub is crowded despite the diminishing population, which is to the group’s advantage, because they do not particularly want to be seen or heard.  There isn’t really a chance of being noticed here, but Amy and Rory warn John and Melody about “creepy folks with eyepatches” that could be lurking nearby.  Though they look around briefly, John and Melody see nothing out of the ordinary.  A group of students play pool in the corner, an enclave of young women who look like they’re part of a bachelorette party order another round of drinks, an older couple chat animatedly over a meal, and life goes on.

John leans back in his chair and crosses his arms petulantly, still feeling out of place amongst the three other people.  They seem to click instantly, leaving him behind in the dust.  John is no stranger to feeling left out, but this still feels odd to him.  Melody seems to trust Amy and Rory so much, but why should he?  The only thing John seems to know right now is that he trusts Melody, and that is enough.

Melody is even more confused than John.  She feels completely at home with Amy and Rory, like they are her own family.  It’s utterly ridiculous, of course.  She has a family, but there is a new feeling with the two sitting across from her that she never experienced at home.  It’s easy to talk to Amy and Rory, they seem like good people.  She hopes it isn’t an act, because it would be a pity to...what?  Kill them?  Melody wouldn’t be able to, even if they were a threat.  Amy and Rory exchange nervous glances, but Melody tries to maintain a cool exterior.  “Alright.”  She says evenly.  “How about that explanation, hm?”

Amy mumbles something to Rory and he nods before taking far too long to reply.  John finally loses his patience and loudly exclaims, “Just get to the sodding point already!”

Voices around the pub lower.  Heads turn in their direction.

In a moment of defeat, Amy rolls her eyes.  “Oh, shut up, Doctor!”

John’s eyes widen.  “Doctor _who_?”

 


	11. A Recording and a Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces. Little things we can't quite account for. Faces in photographs, luggage, half-eaten meals. Rings. Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back." - The Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it has been a while, hasn't it? I'm awfully sorry about that, but in my defense there has been quite a bit happening in my life recently and I haven't had the time nor will to continue this story until recently. I do hope you enjoy it, and please leave me a comment letting me know what you think. Thank you!

John leans close to Amy, hands shaking and mouth drawn into a thin line. “How the hell...how the hell do you know that name?” Melody places a hand firmly on his shoulder, a comfort, but a warning nonetheless.

Amy raises an eyebrow calmly, unaffected by the anger radiating from John. “Don’t act so surprised. We know this isn’t the first time you’ve been addressed by that name, and that you probably have many questions. But the thing is...we can’t answer them.”

“But we know someone who can,” Rory interjects.

“Who would that be?” John asks.

Amy searches in her handbag for a moment before extracting a picture and shielding it with the palm of her hand, as if to prevent anyone from seeing it. After glancing around for a moment and checking that all angles are clear, she passes the picture to John. “You might recognize him. He’s a very dear friend of ours. So is she.”

Eyes locked onto the image in his hand, John remains frozen in his seat. Melody leans over, eyebrows drawn together in concern. “John, who is it?” Eyes settling on the picture, her breath hitches and she nearly drops her briefcase from her lap. In John’s hand is a picture of what seems to be a close, if not a tad abnormal looking, group of friends. Four in all, they are gathered in some kind of park or field, a picnic spread out in front of them. John recognizes Amy and Rory easily, noticing Amy’s bright smile and Rory’s shier one. Their carefree expressions are so different from the stoic, businesslike fronts they put up tonight. Amy’s arm is slung around Rory’s shoulder, and they look as if they’re in the middle of a laughing fit, too happy to care about the rest of the world’s happenings.

There are two other people featured in the photograph, but the sight of them and the implication it carries is almost too much for John. On the ground is him, or at least someone who looks a good deal like him. The man in the picture isn’t wearing glasses, but he is sporting an awful tweed and bow tie duo that makes John grimace at the sight of himself in it. He is laying on the blanket on his side, a full glass of wine discarded next to him. To his right is a woman with bright, curly hair and a smirk on her lips. She looks at the man instead of the camera, one finger toying lazily with a bouncy curl. While he may have doubts about his own doppleganger, John knows that that woman can be no one but Melody.

John looks up at Amy and Rory in confusion while Melody continues to examine the photograph. The expressions on their faces are guarded, but they are obviously trying to gauge his reaction. Because of this, John tries to keep his outward appearance calm while his mind digests what he has just seen.

“But that…that’s us.” He says finally, at a loss for anything else to say.

Amy nods. “Yes, it is. But not really. I told you, it’s very difficult for me to explain. Anything that comes from my own mouth will be too bizarre for you to believe. I mean, look at you. Sitting in an office all day, color coding your closet, never traveling or trying new things. Do you really think you’d be able to believe a woman you just met if she told you that you were someone else?”

Trying not to be offended at Amy’s description of him. John looks at her warily. “Well…no, frankly. So if I’m not supposed to hear an explanation from you, who am I supposed to hear it from exactly?  You said someone could explain this all to me, but who?”

Amy suppresses a smile as Rory digs around in his bag and produces an MP3 player and a pair of headphones. “I think you’ll recognize him, actually. Just listen.” John is passed the headphones across the table and he dons them, feeling only a tad ridiculous. Rory presses the “play” button on the MP3 player and John’s ears are filled with a strange but not unfamiliar voice.

_...Hello? Amelia, is this thing on? Oh-okay then. Brilliant. Hello there! I’m the Doctor. Well, for now I am anyways. That’s all about to change. And after it does, you’re going to need to listen very very carefully. You’re in danger, I’m in danger. And because of that I don’t have time to sugarcoat anything for you, I’m afraid. Essentially, we are the same person. And in order for you to understand how this came to be, you’re going to have to throw all of your assumptions about how the universe works out of the window. Okay? Good. Now then, what you need to know first and foremost is this: you are the Doctor. You have erased your memory for your own protection, in order to hide away from a group of people seeking you out. They’re called the Silence. Silly name, I know, but they’re not to be trifled with. Secondly, if you’re hearing this, that means you’ve come into contact with Amy and Rory. I advise that you trust them with your life, it’s always worked for me. Next, you may or may not be in contact with a woman called Melody Williams. She’s very important, and she needs to be protected at all costs, same as you. Now, down to business...._

For the next several minutes, John listens to a variety of instructions on how to obtain something called a ‘fob watch’ and turn himself back into the Doctor. It all seems a bit surreal to him, not to mention ludicrous. The notion that he is someone else is difficult enough to understand, not to mention being told that he is in hiding from a group out to get him. When the recording is over, John removes the headphones and clears his throat, noticing the looks from everyone else at the table. Suddenly, he just needs to be away from the intrusive and knowing gazes of Amy and Rory and the worried looks of Melody. He needs to be free from the warm, hazy atmosphere of the pub. He simply needs to be alone.

“Well,” John begins awkwardly. “This is quite a bit to take in, obviously. I’m going to need some air. Excuse me, please.” He rises from the table and gives Melody’s hand a reassuring squeeze before exiting the pub quickly and breathing in the cool night air.

A tense silhouette in the night is the last anyone ever sees of John Smith.

**Author's Note:**

> PS: I used an odd word processing system so please forgive the typos if there are any.


End file.
